Incredibly Unprofessional
by Juliana Eschette
Summary: Stolen kisses in a darkened storage room. Nurse Kirkland had had enough... If it wasn't for Doctor Jones' incredible kissing skills. The staff was surely going to talk about this, much to his embarrassment, but surely a few moments like this couldn't hurt. But such perfection couldn't possibly be real... Right? Inspired by: invisibleinnocence. deviantart. com/gallery/#/d4q30js


Incredibly Unprofessional

This is uncalled for! This is sexual harassment! This is… absolutely amazing.

His lips brush against mine, so softly that I'm not even sure if it happened. They ghost past, leaving behind an aura of warmth. I can feel my face turning red as I drag my fingers through his dark blonde locks of hair. He smells strange for a doctor. Most smell of disinfectant and starchy white coats, but this was not the case. He smelled like fabric softener, cologne, and there was a faint trace of a hamburger's scent on his sleeve.

People are definitely going to talk.

"D-Dr. Jones," I stutter as I try to push him away. I place my hand on his chest in hopes of having some distance between us. There's no such luck. I'm too surprised to really put any strength into it. Or rather, I'm too distracted to. I'm distracted by the way he holds me, one strong arm wrapped around and bracing my back as the other slips upwards towards my chest.

"Yes, Nurse Kirkland?" he says with a breathy whisper. He's so close; too damn close. I can feel my ears burning and my heart racing. Oh, God, this man drives me mad. He takes a small step forward, throwing any chance I had of getting space out of a theoretical window. All I can do is blink like an idiot; a very aroused, blank-minded idiot.

"W-we shouldn't be…" my voice trails off. I forget what I am trying to say as he places his lips upon mine again. He tastes sweet. I'm not actually surprised. Every moment I've been in this man's presence he would always be eating treats by the handful. He has me pressed against the storage room's wall. He knows I've got nowhere to go. He _knows_. And he probably knows that I wouldn't want to anyway.

So he kissed me. Again and again and again, each time gaining more confidence to explore my mouth. He tastes so good, and he's so gentle about it, too. It's almost like he's afraid of hurting me. The longer we stay like this, however, the more he seems to forget. The more he allows his greedy mouth to do whatever it pleased. And I'm not at all ashamed to say that I let him. His chest presses against mine. I can feel his heart pounding quickly. It is just as fast as my own.

I'm sort of glad he has me pressed against the wall. My legs feel weak. I would have fallen had he not been supporting me. The hand that was exploring underneath my shirt was no resting comfortably just above my rib, holding me so gently I thought I would break. His hands are cold. Or maybe it was just because my own body was practically overheating from embarrassment. But I forget quickly, lost with this sweet, fearless man before me.

"Arthur," he says my name softly between kisses. My heart skips a beat. It sounds so… heavenly.

"Yes?" I whisper back just before he captures my lips again. His tongue is playing capture the flag with my own. He is bolder than I expected.

My voice betrays me as I let out a moan. I can feel a smirk on his face. He is such an arrogant bastard, and that's one of the many things I like about him. And then out of the blue…

My cell rings.

But it's loud. _Really_ loud. It's as if there are hundreds of speakers playing that damn ringing tune. My first point of concern is the fact that Alfred didn't react in surprise. In fact, he pretty much stops. But it wasn't like he pulled back or anything. He just…_ stopped_. It was like somebody had pressed the pause button on the TV. My heart is pounding, but not in a nice way. It feels like it's going to explode.

My eyes shoot open. The cellphone on my bedside table is vibrating like a madman and the ringtone is still blasting away. I groan and reach for the device.

"What?" I snapped.

"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, didn't he?" chuckles the doctor's voice on the other end of the receiver. It sounds like he's already had three bowls of that sugary marshmallow-filled cereal crap he calls breakfast. I've seen what that stuff can do to him. He goes nuts on that stuff, I swear. "I called to make sure you weren't late," he continued. "The board meeting will be starting in another hour. Oh, and could you pick me up some coffee? And a donut! I'm kind of peckish."

A dream. It had been a dream. A really, extremely detailed, your-heart-was-dying-from-sexual-tension _dream_. I shut my eyes, the morning light burning my retinas.

"Son of a–" I scream, but cut myself off.

"What's the matter with you?" asked Dr. Jones. "Fine. Fine. Don't get the donut. But can you still make the coffee run? Five sugars, okay?" I groan. I'm so sexually frustrated that it's making my overall frustration levels shoot through the roof. "Two sugars," I say quickly.

"You're going to get fat that way, Jones."

"But sugar makes a person sweet, Kirkland."

"That's bull and you know it."

"Very well. I guess you'll just have to deal with me tasting bitter."

I frown.

"Taste?" I echo, confused.

"What did I say?" asks the American after my hesitant response.

"Er… Nothing. I'll be right there."

This was going to be a very long day.

{~~}

Alfred can't help but grin.

_Taste?_ Had he really let that slip.

The poor nurse is already disapproving as it is. Now it's just a question of how to get said nurse disapproving even more, and enjoying it. Perhaps at the end of a hard day's work. Like an award for working so diligently. Or perhaps a quick peck in the hall as he walked off to lunch. Nah. Too many witnesses. Alfred shrugged.

The storage room was always free. Yes. That would work.

He could see it so clearly that it was almost a dream to him.

His favourite nurse.

His favourite person.

His favourite Arthur.


End file.
